Tempered Steel
by gonnabe-best
Summary: Ash is a broken boy with no memories. In the process of remembering who he is, can he take control of his life and make himself whole again? Will he accept when help is offered?
1. Go

This story is really just an attempt to overcome my writer's block, so the chapters are going to be a little short to begin with. Any kind of criticism is appreciated as long as it's constructed. Flames will be reported. That's all I have to say about it.

Hope you like Tempered Steel.

**Warnings**: heavy language, violence, gore, main character death, eventual sexual content.

* * *

><p><strong>01 - Go<strong>

The sunset wakes him yet again. Orange hues filter through the window and paint stripes on the contours of his form. It's a vast contrast to the rest of the room, the dying light only highlighting the emptiness of it. He lays on his back, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling and unable to stay asleep.

Standing, he shuffles to the bathroom and stumbles over to the loo, shucks his pajama bottoms and takes a quick piss. He sees himself in front of the mirror, sees the dark circles under his gray eyes that signal the lack of sleep. His eyes have dulled to the point of being dead and his usually spiky raven hair is looking kind of flat too. He sighs and crawls back into bed.

Since learning that he is missing his whole life, he feels as if the very fabric of the world as he knows it has been rent apart. Nothing will ever be the same again, even if he were somehow able to stitch back up the pieces of himself. He doubts the pattern would make any sense to him. It doesn't matter how many nights he spends wide awake and tries to remember.

There are remnants of his old life inside of these walls; like the empty pizza boxes coated with a thick layer of dust, or the crumpled and withered plant standing on his windowsill. How can he possibly have forgotten all of this?

He closes his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. He is tired of pretending to give a fuck about anything at all. To exist in spite of himself, in spite of his loss. All he really wants is to fall asleep already … He has barely dozed off when he registers the utterance of his name.

Briefly he wonders if he has just imagined it. Then, running a hand down his face he lets out a heavy sigh and throws the covers back. The word that next pushes itself into his ear is barely even audible.

'_**Go****.**_'

A blank feeling enters his mind and the only thing he feels is the hook behind his heart and the sense that it is right to obey. He swings his legs out of bed and pushes to his feet. Go where?

'_**Go outside****.**_'

Ambling over to the front door, he less than graceful makes it out and into the night. And now? What is even happening to him?

Suddenly, something very like resolve winds itself around his ankles, pulling him god knows where. And he follows, lost.

Maybe he's already fallen asleep. It wouldn't surprise him, as tired as he is. Sure, it feels pretty real for a dream, but as long as he is getting his sleep he doesn't really care. Or is he just sleepwalking? But if he really is sleepwalking, then why is he so aware of it all? It doesn't make sense to him.

Seeing a police car come his way he pauses, eyes narrowed as it drives towards him. It's strange, he's never seen a police car like that before. It doesn't resemble the usual vehicle of a law enforcement officer one bit, except for the flashing red and blue lights. There is something about this car that just rubs him the wrong way.

The sound of the car's revving engine snaps him out of his thoughts. It revs forward, bumping his knees and making him stumble backwards. "Hey–– !" But the car keeps coming and with a small yelp he lands flat on his back. Panicking, he scoots backwards, his eyes set on a strange symbol that is on the car's hood.

'_What the–– ? This cop's fucking crazy!_'

But once the car transforms into a giant robot, he is almost convinced that he is dreaming. He has to be. There is no way that this is real.

'_**Are you stupid? You idiot, run!**_'

He nearly lurches forward at the force of the compulsion. All other pathways from his free will are suddenly removed, leaving only one remaining. But before he can obey there is an impact against his head that blasts any kind of thought from his mind and he nearly passes out. Is this thing trying to kill him?

A giant metal hand grabs and lifts him into the air and he lets out a pained gasp, because dammit this thing crushing his ribs and he can't breathe! "Stop–– !" He desperately tries to wriggle free. "–– Help!"

A sudden canon blast knocks the robot off his feet and releases him, his back meeting the ground with a grunt. His eyes widen and he disbelievingly stares at the black pickup truck that has come to his rescue. Or so he hopes.

He lets out a sigh of relief and, feeling himself losing consciousness, he closes his eyes. How the hell did he get himself into this situation?

'_This isn't real …_'

He finally passes out ...


	2. What do we do with him?

**02 – What do we do with him?**

Waking up, the pristine smell of the disinfected room is the first thing he notices. Slowly, he pushes himself up from his laying position, squinting his eyes at the bright light from the infirmary. When he slants his head to his right, his gaze falls upon a man dressed in camouflage clothing. It takes his drugged mind a few moments to register that said man is talking to him.

"My name is William Lennox. You are here because you were attacked by a Decepticon and we think that you might still be in danger. Do you remember what happened?"

There is a pause before he answers the question fired at him. It takes a moment for him to recall what happened.

"A police car tried to kill me," he states, matter of factly. He half expects to be laughed at, but apparently the situation isn't as crazy as he thinks it is. Irritation is starting to bubble underneath his skin. '_What the fuck is going on?_'

Lennox gives a sigh and nods. "This is an alien cooperation division. We are a defense force against Decepticons, like the one that attacked you. It's beyond classified, which is why I can't tell you anything other than that you will be staying here until we figure out why you were attacked. Once we are sure that you're safe, you may go."

His only response to that is a blank stare. He doesn't say anything, nothing much can be said or needs to be said anyway. Perhaps if dangerous alien robots were not out to kill him, he would speak up. But now there's no point.

He groans, hands flying up to cradle his head. The scent of the sterilizer is making his head spin.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Ash. And I'm not a _kid_." he says, his face still plain as a brick wall. He's eighteen years old and definitely not a kid anymore.

If Lennox is frowning at his rudeness he doesn't see it, instead his attention is drawn to the lime green robot that has just stepped through a large pair of double doors. (Why he hasn't noticed those before is a mystery to him.) He is frozen at the sight. In his mind he can still remember his first encounter with a robot.

"Ash, this is our medic, Ratchet," Lennox tells him.

"It is about time you woke up. I have more important things to do than taking care of a human teenager," the robot says and he can't help but flinch when a large metal finger prods at his chest. His eyes track every one of the robot's movements.

"As I already said to William earlier, you have a few bruised ribs and a concussion. You will be fine in a couple of days."

He keeps silent, still wary of what that machine might do to him, especially since it doesn't seem to be very fond of 'human teenagers'. To his relief, the robot straightens and marches away without sparing him another glance.

He lets out a breath he didn't know he's been holding.

"If you're feeling up to it I can show you to your room for your stay on base?" Lennox asks and he nods, standing. It sounds like he'll be staying here for a while, if they even went through the trouble of setting up a room for him.

Wincing at the pain in his ribs, he walks behind Lennox. On their way he tries to memorize the layout of the base as best as he can, but after ten minutes of walking around, he gives up. This place is massive, that much is clear, so the five robots talking to each other in the hangar shouldn't really come as a shock. But they do and he stops, starring.

"Hey! Is that not the kid Ironhide brought in?" one of them asks and he tenses when suddenly everybody's attention turns to him. Why? He doesn't get it. He hasn't done anything to earn their attention.

He can tell just by looking at them that they are not like the one that had attacked him. They are rather … colorful.

A big hand grabs him out of nowhere and both of his hands reach up at once in an attempt to grab hold of whatever is holding him into the air.

"Put me down!" he shouts, fearing that his shirt might rip and he would break his ankles.

"Ironhide is right, he really is-a tall and skinny. How much do you weight, kid?" a heavy Italian accent asks him from above and he blinks. How can a machine have any kind of accent?

"Dino, put the boy down," another, much more commanding, voice says and only seconds later his feet are touching the ground again. He staggers backwards immediately, trying to bring as much distance as possible between himself and them.

"What do we do with him?" somebody asks. Lennox steps in to explain the situation.

"Listen up! I'm sure you've all heard by now that he will be staying here on base until we are sure that he's not in any danger. Understandably he's a little frightened, so I'd appreciate it if you could be a little more mindful around him."

"I'm **not** scared," he growls at Lennox. And it's true. He is far from being scared and to prove his point, he squares his shoulders and walks up to the tallest one of all of them.

"I'm Ash," he says and is glad that he manages to at least sound more confident than he really feels.

"Ash, my name is Optimus Prime."

Right off the bat, he notices something about this one. If the aura of authority and strength is anything to go by, then this guy is probably the leader of this group. "My medical officer told me that you were injured?"

"I'm fine." He raises an eyebrow, his expression clearly asking why the robot cares. Lennox clears his throat.

"So … Ash, lets get you to your room so you can rest, alright?"

He nods and follows Lennox.


	3. What to say to big brother?

**03 – What to say to big brother?**

__The place is beyond filthy.__

__He is standing in ankle-deep water, the vague stench of something decomposing wafting through the air, if it can be called that. Pipes run across the ceiling, branching out and looping back on themselves.__

__He hunches over, hands clutching his stomach. This place is making him nauseous.__

_For the first time he takes note of the the strange presence behind him._

**_'So … It's you.'_**

He jerks awake, trying to shake off the half remembered nightmare that is persistently clinging to his mind, leaving him confused and unfocused. Sitting up and rubbing a hand over his face, the teen panics upon registering his surroundings. He doesn't know where he is and the bed he is in isn't one that is familiar to him, but as soon as he remembers what happened he is not sure what to do with himself.

He could just try sleeping again, it isn't exactly early, but with the last nightmare still fresh on his mind he decides against it.

Standing, he walks into the bathroom and is surprised to see a stag of clean clothes sitting on the counter. He can tell just by looking at them that they're too big, but it is by far better than _his_ old clothes, torn and dirty. So, he quickly finishes, puts on a simple pair of jeans with a too large t-shirt and exits his room.

Walking down the corridor and turning the corner to his right, he is immediately greeted by the sight of people hurrying about and shouting orders. It isn't at all like he had imagined, it is louder and a lot more crowded.

Too crowded for him and way too loud.

With no care as to who sees him or who does not, he slowly makes his way outside. The wind is cool as it rushes past him and, running a hand down his face he lets out a heavy sigh. Man is he tired. His hair is still wrecked with sleep and he and he can barely keep his eyes open. He needs a cigarette, yet he doesn't have any and he highly doubts that he will be able to bum one off from someone who does.

Walking along the perimeters he tries to get an idea of where he is. There are no street signs, no surrounding buildings, nothing he recognizes. The only thing he is really sure of is that he still is in Washington D.C.

"Are you following me?"

His eyes make swift contact with the voice addressing him.

"No." He isn't following him. The teen just has no idea where he's going and happens to wander in the same direction.

"Hmph. Are you even allowed to be outside?" the medic asks and Ash rubs the back of his head nervously, not really sure himself since nobody has told him anything. Lennox hasn't mentioned any rules, hasn't even told him what to do in his free time. (The boredom is probably going to kill him.) But he isn't going to let himself be confined to his room.

"I don't like being cooped up," he says and shrugs, not really caring. He doesn't feel like chatting at the moment.

Not waiting for a reply, he turns and marches off.

* * *

><p>He sits by himself, his hands neatly folded at a table and his tea running cold. Hostility seems to emanate from his very presence, oozing out of his pores and interlacing his tone. It is clear that he has no desire to be in anybody's company right now and for the most part the people here only watch him warily but stay out of his way. He hates having to interact with people, especially strangers.<p>

As if he cares about whether or not his attitude is unappealing. If anything he is glad. It means he wont be the target of curious questions that he won't answer.

Not that he can anyway.

He can't recall a thing about his past life except for his own name and his older brother, who is the only one from his family he still remembers and whom he admires more than anybody else. They are inseparable and he is sure that by now his brother is worried sick about him.

"I need to call someone," he tells Lennox later. Why he insists on asking for a permission he shouldn't need in the first place is a mystery to him. Making sure his brother knows that he is safe is a priority and if he had his own phone he would have done it already.

"Not a problem. I'm guessing family?" Lennox asks, handing him a cell phone.

His head tilts to the side and he pretends to consider the question. Family is a foreign concept to him. The only thing that 'family' makes him think of is his brother. His brother is the only family he needs.

"Yeah, my brother."

Dialing the number, he waits for his brother to pick up. When he does, Ash nearly drops the phone because of how loud his brother is yelling into the speaker. He can't blame him, not really. Who knows what his brother must have thought when he found Ash's apartment empty with no trace of him.

"_Ash, are you alright? Where are you?!_"

"I'm fine, calm down."

"_Where are you?_"

He sighs, starring at his feet. It is just like his brother to be so overly concerned about him. He's always been this way, but since losing his memory his brother has been keeping him on a tight leash.

And it is about to get even tighter.

"Listen, I'm _safe_. You don't need to worry."

"_I will stop worrying once you tell me where you are!_"

Ash can't help but laugh at that. Fantastic. He doesn't even know that himself. And telling his brother the truth is out of the question, for it will once again proof that he can't take care of himself. No.

But what else is he going to say?


End file.
